_Neverout._ Well, all Things have an End, and a Pudden has two, up-up-on
my-my-my Word. [_stutters._]
_Miss._ What! Mr. _Neverout_, can’t you speak without a Spoon?
_Ld. Sparkish._ [_to Lady Smart._] Has your Ladyship seen the Duchess
since your falling out?
_Lady Smart._ Never, my Lord, but once at a Visit; and she look’d at me,
as the Devil look’d over _Lincoln_.
_Neverout._ Pray, Miss, take a Pinch of my Snuff.
_Miss._ What! you break my Head, and give me a Plaister; well, with all
my Heart; once, and not use it.
_Neverout._ Well, Miss; if you wanted me and your Victuals, you’d want
your Two best Friends.
_Col._ [_to Neverout._] _Tom_, Miss and you must kiss, and be Friends.
[Neverout _salutes_ Miss.
_Miss._ Any thing for a quiet Life: my Nose itch’d, and I knew I should
drink Wine, or kiss a Fool.
_Col._ Well, _Tom_, if that ben’t fair, hang fair.
_Neverout._ I never said a rude Thing to a Lady in my Life.
_Miss._ Here’s a Pin for that Lye; I’m sure Lyars had need of good
Memories. Pray, Colonel, was not he very uncivil to me but just now?
_Lady Answ._ Mr. _Neverout_, if Miss will be angry for nothing, take my
Council, and bid her turn the Buckle of her Girdle behind her.
_Neverout._ Come, Lady _Answerall_, I know better Things; Miss and I are
good Friends; don’t put Tricks upon Travellers.
_Col._ _Tom_, not a Word of the Pudden, I beg you.
_Lady Smart._ Ah, Colonel! you’ll never be good, nor then neither.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Which of the Goods d’ye mean? good for something, or good
for nothing?
_Miss._ I have a Blister on my Tongue; yet, I don’t remember, I told a
Lye.
_Lady Answ._ I thought you did just now.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Pray, Madam, what did Thought do?
_Lady Answ._ Well, for my Life, I cannot conceive what your Lordship
means.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Indeed, Madam, I meant no Harm.
_Lady Smart._ No, to be sure, my Lord! you are as innocent as a Devil of
Two Years old.
_Neverout._ Madam, they say, ill Doers are ill Deemers: but I don’t apply
it to your Ladyship.
[Miss _mending a Hole in her Lace_.
_Miss._ Well, you see, I’m mending; I hope I shall be good in time; look,
Lady _Answerall_, is not it well mended?
_Lady Answ._ Ay, this is something like a Tansy.
_Neverout._ Faith, Miss, you have mended it, as a Tinker mends a Kettle;
stop one Hole, and make two.
_Lady Smart._ Pray, Colonel, are not you very much tann’d?
_Col._ Yes, Madam; but a Cup of _Christmas_ Ale will soon wash it off.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Lady _Smart_, does not your Ladyship think, Mrs. _Fade_
is mightily alter’d since her Marriage?
_Lady Answ._ Why, my Lord, she was handsome in her Time; but she cannot
eat her Cake, and have her Cake: I hear she’s grown a mere Otomy.
_Lady Smart._ Poor Creature! the Black has set his Foot upon her already.
_Miss._ Ay! she has quite lost the Blue on the Plumb.
_Lady Smart._ And yet, they say, her Husband is very fond of her still.
_Lady Answ._ Oh! Madam; if she would eat Gold, he would give it her.
_Neverout._ [_to Lady Smart._] Madam, have you heard, that Lady _Queasy_
was lately at the Playhouse _incog._?
_Lady Smart._ What! Lady _Queasy_ of all Women in the World! Do you say
it upon Rep?
_Neverout._ Poz, I saw her with my own Eyes; she sat among the Mob in the
Gallery; her own ugly Fiz: And she saw me look at her.
_Col._ Her Ladyship was plaguily bamb’d; I warrant, it put her into the
Hipps.
_Neverout._ I smoked her huge Nose, and egad she put me in mind of the
Woodcock, that strives to hide his long Bill, and then thinks nobody sees
him.
_Col._ _Tom_, I advise you hold your Tongue; for you’ll never say so good
a Thing again.
_Lady Smart._ Miss, what are you looking for?
_Miss._ Oh! Madam; I have lost the finest Needle——
_Lady Answ._ Why, seek till you find it, and then you won’t lose your
Labour.
_Neverout._ The Loop of my Hat is broke; how shall I mend it? [_he
fastens it with a Pin._] Well, hang them, say I, that has no Shift.
_Miss._ Ay, and hang him, that has one too many.
_Neverout._ Oh! Miss; I have heard a sad Story of you.
_Miss._ I defy you, Mr. _Neverout_; nobody can say, Black’s my Eye.
_Neverout._ I believe, you wish they could.
_Miss._ Well; but who was your Author? Come, tell Truth, and shame the
Devil.
_Neverout._ Come then, Miss; guess who it was that told me; come, put on
your Considering-cap.
_Miss._ Well, who was it?
_Neverout._ Why, one that lives within a Mile of an Oak.
_Miss._ Well, go hang yourself in your own Garters; for I’m sure, the
Gallows groans for you.
_Neverout._ Pretty Miss! I was but in Jest.
_Miss._ Well, but don’t let that stick in your Gizzard.
_Col._ My Lord, does your Lordship know Mrs. _Talkall_?
_Ld. Smart._ Only by Sight; but I hear she has a great deal of Wit; and
egad, as the Saying is, Mettle to the Back.
_Lady Smart._ So I hear.
_Col._ Why _Dick Lubber_ said to her t’other Day, Madam, you can’t cry
Bo to a Goose: Yes, but I can, said she; and, egad, cry’d Bo full in his
Face: We all thought we should break our Hearts with laughing.
_Ld. Sparkish._ That was cutting with a Vengeance: and pr’ythee how did
the Fool look?
_Col._ Look? Egad he look’d for all the World like an Owl in an Ivy Bush.
[_A Child comes in screaming._
_Miss._ Well, if that Child was mine, I’d whip it till the Blood came;
Peace, you little Vixen! if I were near you, I would not be far from you.
_Lady Smart._ Ay, ay; Batchelors Wives and Maids Children are finely
tutor’d.
_Lady Answ._ Come to me, Master; and I’ll give you a Sugar-Plumb. Why,
Miss, you forgot that ever you was a Child yourself. [_She gives the
Child a Lump of Sugar._] I have heard ’em say, Boys will long.
_Col._ My Lord, I suppose you know, that Mr. _Buzzard_ has married again?
_Lady Smart._ This is his Fourth Wife; then he has been shod round.
_Col._ Why, you must know, she had a Month’s Mind to _Dick Frontless_,
and thought to run away with him; but her Parents forc’d her to take the
old Fellow for a good Settlement.
_Ld. Sparkish._ So the Man got his Mare again.
_Ld. Smart._ I’m told he said a very good thing to _Dick_; said he, You
think us old Fellows are Fools; but we old Fellows know young Fellows are
Fools.
_Col._ I know nothing of that; but I know, he’s devilish old, and she’s
very young.
_Lady Answ._ Why, they call that a Match of the World’s making.
_Miss._ What if he had been young, and she old?
_Neverout._ Why, Miss, that would have been a Match of the Devil’s
making; but when both are young, that’s a Match of God’s making.
[Miss _searching her Pockets for her Thimble, brings out a
Nutmeg_.
_Neverout._ Oh! Miss, have a Care; for if you carry a Nutmeg in your
Pocket, you’ll certainly be marry’d to an old Man.
_Miss._ Well, and if ever I be marry’d, it shall be to an old Man; they
always make the best Husbands; and it is better to be an old Man’s
Darling than a young Man’s Warling.
_Neverout._ Faith, Miss, if you speak as you think, I’ll give you my
Mother for a Maid.
[_Lady_ Smart _rings the Bell_. Footman _comes in_.
_Lady Smart._ Harkee, you Fellow; run to my Lady _Match_, and desire she
will remember to be here at Six, to play at Quadrille: D’ye hear, if you
fall by the Way, don’t stay to get up again.
_Footman._ Madam, I don’t know the House.
_Lady Smart._ Well, that’s not for Want of Ignorance; follow your Nose;
go, enquire among the Servants.
[Footman _goes out, and leaves the Door open_.
_Lady Smart._ Here, come back, you Fellow; why did you leave the Door
open? Remember, that a good Servant must always come when he’s call’d, do
what he’s bid, and shut the Door after him.
[_The_ Footman _goes out again, and falls down Stairs_.
_Lady Answ._ Neck or nothing; come down, or I’ll fetch you down: Well,
but I hope, the poor Fellow has not sav’d the Hangman a Labour.
_Neverout._ Pray, Madam, smoke Miss yonder biting her Lips, and playing
with her Fan.
_Miss._ Who’s that takes my Name in vain?
[_She runs up to them, and falls down._
_Lady Smart._ What, more falling! do you intend the Frolick should go
round?
_Lady Answ._ Why, Miss, I wish you may not have broke her Ladyship’s
Floor.
_Neverout._ Miss, come to me, and I’ll take you up.
_Lady Sparkish._ Well, but without a Jest, I hope, Miss, you are not hurt.
_Col._ Nay, she must be hurt for certain; for you see, her Head is all of
a Lump.
_Miss._ Well, remember this, Colonel, when I have Money, and you have
none.
_Lady Smart._ But, Colonel, when do you design to get a House, and a
Wife, and a Fire to put her in?
_Miss._ Lord! who would be marry’d to a Soldier, and carry his Knapsack?
_Neverout._ Oh! Madam: _Mars_ and _Venus_, you know.
_Col._ Egad, Madam, I’d marry To-morrow, if I thought I could bury my
Wife just when the Honey-Moon is over; but they say, A Woman has as many
Lives as a Cat.
_Lady Answ._ I find, the Colonel thinks, a dead Wife under the Table is
the best Goods in a Man’s House.
_Lady Smart._ O but, Colonel, if you had a good Wife, it would break your
Heart to part with her.
_Col._ Yes, Madam; for they say, he that has lost his Wife and Sixpence,
has lost a Tester.
_Lady Smart._ But, Colonel, they say, that every marry’d Man should
believe there’s but one good Wife in the World, and that’s his own.
_Col._ For all that, I doubt, a good Wife must be bespoke, for there is
none ready made.
_Miss._ I suppose, the Gentleman’s a Woman-Hater; but, Sir, I think, you
ought to remember, that you had a Mother: And pray, if it had not been
for a Woman, where would you have been, Colonel?
_Col._ Nay, Miss, you cry’d W——e first, when you talk’d of the Knapsack.
_Lady Answ._ But I hope you won’t blame the whole Sex, because some are
bad.
_Neverout._ And they say, he that hates Woman, suck’d a Sow.
_Col._ Oh! Madam; there’s no general Rule without an Exception.
_Lady Smart._ Then, why don’t you marry, and settle?
_Col._ Egad, Madam, there’s nothing will settle me but a Bullet.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Well, Colonel, there’s one Comfort, that you need not
fear a Cannon-Bullet.
_Col._ Why so, my Lord?
_Ld. Sparkish._ Because they say, he was curs’d in his Mother’s Belly,
that was kill’d by a Cannon-Bullet.
_Miss._ I suppose, the Colonel was cross’d in his first Love, which makes
him so severe on all the Sex.
_Lady Answ._ Yes; and I’ll hold a hundred to one, that the Colonel has
been over Head and Ears in Love with some Lady, that has made his Heart
ake.
_Col._ Oh! Madam, We Soldiers are Admirers of all the fair Sex.
_Miss._ I wish, I could see the Colonel in Love, till he was ready to
die.
_Lady Smart._ Ay; but I doubt, few People die for Love in these days.
_Neverout._ Well, I confess, I differ from the Colonel; for I hope to
have a rich and a handsome Wife yet before I die.
_Col._ Ay, _Tom_; live Horse, and thou shalt have Grass.
_Miss._ Well, Colonel; but whatever you say against Women, they are
better Creatures than Men; for Men were made of Clay, but Woman was made
of Man.
_Col._ Miss, you may say what you please; but, faith, you’ll never lead
Apes in Hell.
_Neverout._ No, no; I’ll be sworn Miss has not an Inch of Nun’s Flesh
about her.
_Miss._ I understumble you, Gentlemen.
_Neverout._ Madam, your humble-cum-dumble.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Pray, Miss, when did you see your old Acquaintance Mrs.
_Cloudy_? You and She are Two, I hear.
_Miss._ See her! marry, I don’t care whether I ever see her again, God
bless my Eye-sight.
_Lady Answ._ Lord! why she and you were as great as two Inkle-weavers.
I’ve seen her hug you, as the Devil hug’d the Witch.
_Miss._ That’s true; but I’m told for certain, she’s no better than she
should be.
_Lady Smart._ Well, God mend us all; but you must allow, the World is
very censorious: I never heard that she was a naughty Pack.
_Col._ [_to Neverout._] Come, Sir _Thomas_, when the King pleases; when
do you intend to march?
_Ld. Sparkish._ Have Patience. _Tom_, is your Friend _Ned Rattle_ marry’d?
_Neverout._ Yes, faith, my Lord; he has tied a Knot with his Tongue, that
he can never untie with his Teeth.
_Lady Smart._ Ay; marry in Haste, and repent at Leisure.
_Lady Answ._ Has he got a good Fortune with his Lady? for they say,
Something has some Savour, but Nothing has no Flavour.
_Neverout._ Faith, Madam, all he gets by her, he may put into his Eye,
and see never the worse.
_Miss._ Then, I believe, he heartily wishes her in _Abraham_’s Bosom.
_Col._ Pray, my Lord, how does _Charles Limber_ and his fine Wife agree?
_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, they say, he’s the greatest Cuckold in Town.
_Neverout._ Oh! but my Lord, you should always except my Lord-Mayor.
_Miss._ Mr. _Neverout_!
_Neverout._ Hay, Madam, did you call me?
_Miss._ Hay; why, Hay is for Horses.
_Neverout._ Why, Miss, then you may kiss——
_Col._ Pray, my Lord, what’s a Clock by your Oracle?
_Ld. Sparkish._ Faith, I can’t tell, I think my Watch runs upon Wheels.
_Neverout._ Miss, pray be so kind to call a Servant to bring me a Glass
of Small Beer: I know you are at Home here.
_Miss._ Every Fool can do as they’re bid: Make a Page of your own Age,
and do it yourself.
_Neverout._ Chuse, proud Fool; I did but ask you.
[Miss _puts her Hand to her Knee_.
_Neverout._ What! Miss, are you thinking of your Sweet-Heart? is your
Garter slipping down?
_Miss._ Pray, Mr. _Neverout_, keep your Breath to cool your Porridge;
you measure my Corn by your Bushel.
_Neverout._ Indeed, Miss, you lye.——
_Miss._ Did you ever hear any thing so rude?
_Neverout._ I mean, you lye——under a Mistake.
_Miss._ If a thousand Lyes could choak you, you would have been choaked
many a Day ago.
[Miss _tries to snatch_ Neverout’_s Snuff-box_.
_Neverout._ Madam, you miss’d that, as you miss’d your Mother’s Blessing.
[_She tries again, and misses._
_Neverout._ Snap short makes you look so lean, Miss.
_Miss._ Poh! you are so robustious, you had like to put out my Eye: I
assure you, if you blind me, you must lead me.
_Lady Smart._ Dear Miss, be quiet; and bring me a Pin-cushion out of that
Closet.
[Miss _opens the Closet Door, and squalls_.
_Lady Smart._ Lord bless the Girl! what’s the Matter now?
_Miss._ I vow, Madam, I saw something in black, I thought it was a Spirit.
_Col._ Why, Miss, did you ever see a Spirit?
_Miss._ No, Sir; I thank God, I never saw any thing worse than myself.
_Neverout._ Well, I did a very foolish thing yesterday, and was a great
Puppy for my Pains.
_Miss._ Very likely; for, they say, many a true Word’s spoke in Jest.
[Footman _returns_.
_Lady Smart._ Well, did you deliver your Message? You are fit to be sent
for Sorrow, you stay so long by the Way.
_Footman._ Madam, my Lady was not at Home, so I did not leave the Message.
_Lady Smart._ This is it to send a Fool of an Errand.
_Ld. Sparkish._ [_looking at his Watch._] ’Tis past Twelve a Clock.
_Lady Smart._ Well, what is that among all us?
_Ld. Sparkish._ Madam, I must take my Leave: Come, Gentlemen, are you for
a March?
_Lady Smart._ Well, but your Lordship and the Colonel will dine with us
To-day; and, Mr. _Neverout_, I hope, we shall have your good Company:
There will be no Soul else, besides my own Lord and these Ladies; for
every body knows, I hate a Croud; I would rather want Vittles than
Elbow-Room: We dine punctually at Three.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Madam, we’ll be sure to attend your Ladyship.
_Col._ Madam, my Stomach serves me instead of a Clock.
[_Another_ Footman _comes back_.
_Lady Smart._ Oh! you are the t’other Fellow I sent: Well, have you been
with my Lady _Club_? You are good to send of a dead Man’s Errand.
_Footman._ Madam, my Lady _Club_ begs your Ladyship’s Pardon; but she is
engaged To-night.
_Miss._ Well, Mr. _Neverout_, here’s the Back of my Hand to you.
_Neverout._ Miss, I find, you will have the last Word. Ladies, I am more
yours than my own.
POLITE CONVERSATION, ETC.
DIALOGUE II.
_Lord_ Smart _and the former Company at Three a Clock coming to dine_.
[_After Salutations._
_Lord Smart._ I’m sorry I was not at Home this Morning when you all did
us the Honour to call here: But I went to the Levee To-day.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Oh! my Lord; I’m sure the Loss was ours.
_Lady Smart._ Gentlemen and Ladies, you are come to a sad dirty House; I
am sorry for it, but we have had our Hands in Mortar.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Oh! Madam; your Ladyship is pleas’d to say so, but I
never saw any thing so clean and so fine; I profess, it is a perfect
Paradise.
_Lady Smart._ My Lord, your Lordship is always very obliging.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Pray, Madam, whose Picture is that?
_Lady Smart._ Why, my Lord, it was drawn for me.
_Ld. Sparkish._ I’ll swear, the Painter did not flatter your Ladyship.
_Col._ My Lord, the Day is finely clear’d up.
_Ld. Smart._ Ay, Colonel; ’tis a pity that fair Weather should ever do
any Harm. [_To Neverout._] Why, _Tom_, you are high in the Mode.
_Neverout._ My Lord, it is better be out of the World, than out of the
Fashion.
_Ld. Smart._ But, _Tom_, I hear, You and Miss are always quarrelling; I
fear, it is your Fault; for I can assure you, she is very good-humour’d.
_Neverout._ Ay, my Lord; so is the Devil when he’s pleas’d.
_Ld. Smart._ Miss, what do you think of my Friend _Tom_?
_Miss._ My Lord, I think, he’s not the wisest Man in the World; and
truly, he’s sometimes very rude.
_Ld. Sparkish._ That may be true; but, yet, he that hangs _Tom_ for a
Fool, may find a Knave in the Halter.
_Miss._ Well, however, I wish he were hang’d, if it were only to try.
_Neverout._ Well, Miss, if I must be hang’d, I won’t go far to chuse my
Gallows; it shall be about your fair Neck.
_Miss._ I’ll see your Nose Cheese first, and the Dogs eating it: But, my
Lord, Mr. _Neverout_’s Wit begins to run low, for I vow, he said this
before: Pray, Colonel, give him a Pinch, and I’ll do as much for you.
_Ld. Sparkish._ My Lady _Smart_, your Ladyship has a very fine Scarf.
_Lady Smart._ Yes, my Lord; it will make a flaming Figure in a Country
Church.
[Footman _comes in_.
_Footman._ Madam, Dinner’s upon the Table.
_Col._ Faith, I’m glad of it; my Belly began to cry Cupboard.
_Neverout._ I wish I may never hear worse News.
_Miss._ What! Mr. _Neverout_, you are in great Haste; I believe, your
Belly thinks your Throat’s cut.
_Neverout._ No, faith, Miss; Three Meals a Day, and a good Supper at
Night, will serve my Turn.
_Miss._ To say the Truth, I’m hungry.
_Neverout._ And I’m angry, so let us both go fight.
[_They go in to Dinner, and after the usual Compliments, take
their Seats._
_Lady Smart._ Ladies and Gentlemen, will you eat any Oysters before
Dinner?
_Col._ With all my Heart. [_Takes an Oyster._] He was a bold Man, that
first eat an Oyster.
_Lady Smart._ They say, Oysters are a cruel Meat, because we eat them
alive: Then they are an uncharitable Meat, for we leave nothing to the
Poor; and they are an ungodly Meat, because we never say Grace.
_Neverout._ Faith, that’s as well said, as if I had said it myself.
_Lady Smart._ Well, we are well set, if we be but as well serv’d: Come,
Colonel, handle your Arms; shall I help you to some Beef?
_Col._ If your Ladyship please; and, pray, don’t cut like a
Mother-in-Law, but send me a large Slice; for I love to lay a good
Foundation. I vow, ’tis a noble Sirloyn.
_Neverout._ Ay; here’s cut, and come again.
_Miss._ But, pray, why is it call’d a Sirloyn?
_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, you must know, that our King _James_ the First, who
lov’d good Eating, being invited to Dinner by one of his Nobles, and
seeing a large Loyn of Beef at his Table, he drew out his Sword, and in a
Frolic knighted it. Few People know the Secret of this.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Beef is Man’s Meat, my Lord.
_Ld. Smart._ But, my Lord, I say, Beef is the King of Meat.
_Miss._ Pray, what have I done, that I must not have a Plate?
_Lady Smart._ [_to Lady Answ._] What will your Ladyship please to eat?
_Lady Answ._ Pray, Madam, help yourself.
_Col._ They say, Eating and Scratching wants but a Beginning: If you will
give me Leave, I’ll help myself to a Slice of this Shoulder of Veal.
_Lady Smart._ Colonel, you can’t do a kinder thing: Well, you are all
heartily welcome, as I may say.
_Col._ They say, there are Thirty-and-two good Bits in a Shoulder of Veal.
_Lady Smart._ Ay, Colonel; Thirty bad Bits, and Two good ones: you see, I
understand you; but I hope, you have got one of the two good ones.
_Neverout._ Colonel, I’ll be of your Mess.
_Col._ Then, pray, _Tom_, carve for yourself: They say, Two Hands in a
Dish, and One in a Purse: Hah, said I well, _Tom_?
_Neverout._ Colonel, you spoke like an Oracle.
_Miss._ [_to Lady Answ._] Madam, will your Ladyship help me to some Fish?
_Ld. Smart._ [_to Neverout._] _Tom_, they say, Fish should swim thrice.
_Neverout._ How is that, my Lord?
_Ld. Smart._ Why, _Tom_, first it should swim in the Sea, (do you mind
me?) then it should swim in Butter; and at last, Sirrah, it should swim
in good Claret. I think, I have made it out.
_Footman._ [_to Ld. Smart._] My Lord, Sir _John Linger_ is coming up.
_Ld. Smart._ God so! I invited him to dine with me To-day, and forgot
it: Well, desire him to walk in.
[_Sir_ John Linger _comes in_.
_Sir John._ What! are you at it? Why, then, I’ll be gone.
_Lady Smart._ Sir _John_, I beg you will sit down: Come, the more the
merrier.
_Sir John._ Ay; but the fewer the better Cheer.
_Lady Smart._ Well, I am the worst in the World at making Apologies; it
was my Lord’s Fault: I doubt you must kiss the Hare’s Foot.
_Sir John._ I see you are fast by the Teeth.
_Col._ Faith, Sir _John_, we are killing that, that would kill us.
_Ld. Sparkish._ You see, Sir _John_, we are upon a Business of Life and
Death: Come, will you do as we do? You are come in Pudden-Time.
_Sir John._ Ay; this would you be doing if I were dead. What! you keep
Court-Hours I see: I’ll be going, and get a Bit of Meat at my Inn.
_Lady Smart._ Why, we won’t eat you, Sir _John_.
_Sir John._ It is my own Fault; but I was kept by a Fellow who bought
some _Derbyshire_ Oxen from me.
_Neverout._ You see, Sir _John_, we stay’d for you, as one Horse does for
another.
_Lady Smart._ My Lord, will you help Sir _John_ to some Beef? Lady
_Answerall_, pray, eat, you see your Dinner: I am sure, if we had known
we should have such good Company, we should have been better provided;
but you must take the Will for the Deed. I’m afraid you are invited to
your Loss.
_Col._ And, pray, Sir _John_, how do you like the Town? You have been
absent a long Time.
_Sir John._ Why, I find, little _London_ stands just where it did when I
left it last.
_Neverout._ What do you think of _Hannover-Square_? Why, Sir _John_,
_London_ is gone out of Town since you saw it.
_Lady Smart._ Sir _John_, I can only say, you are heartily welcome; and I
wish I had something better for you.
_Col._ Here’s no Salt; Cuckolds will run away with the Meat.
_Ld. Smart._ Pray, edge a little, to make more Room for Sir _John_: Sir
_John_, fall to, you know Half an Hour is soon lost at Dinner.
_Sir John._ I protest I can’t eat a Bit, for I took Share of a Beef-stake
and Two Muggs of Ale with my Chapman, besides a Tankard of _March_ Beer,
as soon as I got out of Bed.
_Lady Answ._ Not fresh and fasting, I hope?
_Sir John._ Yes, faith, Madam; I always wash my Kettle before I put the
Meat in it.
_Lady Smart._ Poh! Sir _John_; you have seen Nine Houses since you
eat last: Come, you have kept a Corner of your Stomach for a Piece of
Venison-Pasty.
_Sir John._ Well, I’ll try what I can do, when it comes up.
_Lady Answ._ Come, Sir _John_, you may go further, and fare worse.
_Miss._ [_to Neverout._] Pray, Mr. _Neverout_, will you please to send me
a Piece of Tongue?
_Neverout._ By no means, Madam; one Tongue’s enough for a Woman.
_Col._ Miss, here’s a Tongue that never told a Lye.
_Miss._ That was, because it could not speak. Why, Colonel, I never told
a Lye in my Life.
_Neverout._ I appeal to all the Company, whether that be not the greatest
Lye that ever was told.
_Col._ [_to Neverout._] Pr’ythee, _Tom_, send me the Two Legs and Rump
and Liver of that Pigeon; for, you must know, I love what nobody else
loves.
_Neverout._ But what if any of the Ladies should long? Well, here take
it, and the D—l do you good with it.
_Lady Answ._ Well; this Eating and Drinking takes away a body’s Stomach.
_Neverout._ I am sure I have lost mine.
_Miss._ What! the Bottom of it, I suppose.
_Neverout._ No, really, Miss; I have quite lost it.
_Miss._ I should be very sorry a poor body had found it.
_Lady Smart._ But, Sir _John_, we hear you are marry’d since we saw you
last: What! you have stolen a Wedding it seems.
_Sir John._ Well; one can’t do a foolish thing once in one’s Life, but
one must hear of it a hundred times.
_Col._ And pray, Sir _John_, how does your Lady unknown?
_Sir John._ My Wife’s well, Colonel; and at your Service in a civil way.
Ha, ha. [_he laughs._